


every time, just like the last

by myeyesarenotblue



Series: Through the Ages [2]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Gun Violence, The Commission, no beta we die like ben
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:33:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26169496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myeyesarenotblue/pseuds/myeyesarenotblue
Summary: “Nothing,” Lila starts, frowning, “It’s just-” and she flips the picture over, lifts it up so they can see,"Number Five.Weird name, right?”Vanya frowns, too. “Yeah,” she says, very,veryslowly. “Weird.”And Ben-He holds his breath.He doesn’t know why, but he holds his breath.____Ben and Vanya, raised away from the academy and by the Handler. They meet their family again.
Series: Through the Ages [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1868575
Comments: 70
Kudos: 252





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **read the first story before this one, this will make no sense**

“I still don’t understand what kind of mission would warrant the three of us,” Vanya says, for what has to be the tenth time. It’s getting old, real fast. 

Ben- 

He sighs, very pointedly ignores her. 

But Lila rolls her eyes, “Maybe Mum’s just getting tired of seeing your ugly mug every day, have you thought about that?” 

“Hey!” Vanya whines, and she tries to give Lila a shove, but she steps away at the last second, almost laughing, amused, and- 

And Vanya still shoves her away. With her powers. 

Not particularly hard, or anything, but- 

“What the hell?” Lila shrieks, and then, _naturally_ , goes to mimic Vanya’s power and shoves her back twice as hard. 

Same old, same old. 

Ben sighs, _again._

“Guys, can we _not_?” he says, almost pleading. “We’ve got a job, remember?” 

That, and- 

Ben looks around, and- sure enough, there are at least ten different people staring already, giving them odd looks. He gets it. Most people don’t get into fistfights in their workplace. Especially not in the Commission’s pristine hallways, buzzing with life but still carefully silent, civil and decorous. No one ever steps out of line in the common areas, much less use their enhancements for mundane, petty things. That’s what the cafeteria is for. 

Not that they ever get in trouble, anyway. They _are_ the Handler’s children, after all, but _still_ \- 

“Who has the coordinates?” 

Vanya steps forward, miraculously only shoots Lila a vaguely annoyed look before digging into her jacket’s pocket and pulling out a folded piece of paper. “Here,” she says, passing it over. 

Ben grabs it, unfolds it, sees exactly when and where they’re supposed to be. It’s an odd year, he thinks. But if Mom wants them there, then there they’ll be. 

“Ready?” he calls. 

“Yeah.” 

“Sure.” 

Ben grabs the briefcase and then they’re gone. 

* 

They land in a dingy little alleyway in the dead of the night. 

But he knew they would land there already. He’s the one who punched the coordinates into the briefcase, after all. What he didn’t know is _how_ the place would look like, dirty and wet, full of trash and mysterious stains. 

He shifts, a little, and ends up stepping into something soft and rotten. “Ugh, gross,” he mutters, stepping away and rubbing his shoe into a clean spot in the asphalt. 

Lila laughs, “You should watch where you’re going, Benny-boy,” she sing-songs, and she pats his shoulder, gives him a sympathetic look that feels more delighted than apologetic. 

“Yeah, yeah, _laugh_ all you want,” Ben says, nearly mumbling. 

Then Vanya’s stifling a little laugh, too, and, well, _well_ \- 

He groans, scraps his shoe against the asphalt one last time. “Let’s just go, okay?” 

Lila shrugs. Vanya nods. 

They go. 

The coordinates pointed to the nearest discrete landing spot to the motel the Commission assigned them to. So it’s there. They don’t even walk half a block before they see it. 

_Luna Motor Lodge Motel._

It’s- 

It’s not the nicest place he’s ever seen. 

Ben’s stayed in many motels throughout his lifetime, and he likes to think he’s developed an acute sense that tells him when a place is just a little old, a little uncared for, in need of renovations and better hosts, not the nicest but definitely not the worst. 

Ben can tell when a place is like that. 

This place, though-? 

This place is definitely not like that. 

It looks- 

It looks like it’s gonna be infested with bed bugs, like the sheets are gonna have mysterious, _organic_ stains, and it’s just- 

“Huh,” Vanya mutters. “Mom wasn’t kidding when she said there were gonna be budget cuts.” 

The motel is shit. 

Ben can recognize that. 

“Yeah, no,” Lila blurts, scrunching up her nose. “Like hell we’re staying here.” 

Ben looks up at her, raises an eyebrow. 

“There’s a five-star hotel like six blocks from here,” she announces, happily, “I’ve been in this city before, trust me.” 

Vanya frowns. “When were you here?” 

“I went on a job a couple months ago, I had to kill this boring old guy- but oh, he had a cat! It was _adorable_ , I wanted to take it with me but I thought Mum would-” 

“No, Lila-” Vanya starts, interrupting, which- is probably a good thing. Lila tends to get carried away. “I meant _what year_? Would that hotel even be there right now?” 

“Oh,” Lila says. “Yeah, it was like the late nineties. It’s probably still there.” 

Vanya hums, nods in acknowledgment. 

Lila looks at them both. “So? Shall we?” 

Ben bites his lip. “It’s not protocol,” he says, because it’s not, “We’re supposed to stay where they put us.” 

Lila groans. “Don’t tell me you actually stay in those shit-holes when you go on jobs?” 

He does. 

He- 

He _absolutely_ does. 

Lila must see it on his face. She barks out an amused laugh, looking at him like he's the dumbest human being that’s ever existed. “I can’t believe you,” she mumbles, “C’mon, let’s go.” 

And she starts walking, but- 

“The package!” Ben calls, “Wouldn’t our package be here?” and he gestures vaguely towards the motel. 

“Oh, shit,” Lila blurts. “Yeah, let me go get it.” 

And she goes. 

She breaks into a light jog and disappears into the motel’s front doors. 

Ben turns to Vanya. “You stay in nice hotels? I never stay in nice hotels.” 

She gives him a timid little smile, “Yeah,” she says, “Sometimes. Not always.” 

Ben huffs out. “Huh.” 

It had never even occurred to him, that he could do that. He knows Mom always does that, find the biggest, most luxurious place available, ask for the _biggest_ , most _luxurious_ room available- 

But she’s the Handler. 

They’re field agents. 

They’re supposed to follow orders. 

He looks at Vanya, maybe to ask her how that whole thing would even work, since the Commission would send any and all further messages to wherever they _think_ they are, wherever they’re _supposed_ to be, but- 

But Vanya’s got a light frown on her face, and she’s twisting her hands, and she’s just got an aura of confusion, mild panic. 

“Are you okay?” 

Vanya startles, looks up at him. “What? Yeah, I’m fine.” 

But she’s not. 

Ben considers it, decides not to drop it. “C’mon, just tell me.” 

“It’s just-” Vanya starts, and now Ben can see she’s clearly anxious, worried. “I’m telling you, it makes no _sense_ to send the three of us at once.” 

And Ben breathes out, “Vanya-” 

“No, no, listen to me,” she says, urgently. “We’re all enhanced. We have powers. Mom’s always saying we’re more useful in separate jobs so we can cover more ground, it- it makes no _sense_ for all of us to be here.” 

There’s something in her eyes, awfully sincere. 

Ben looks at her, and he- 

He can see there’s some truth, in her words. 

It really makes no sense for the three of them to be assigned to the same job. If Mom thinks they’re all needed- then, then they must be up against something- _different_. 

Ben’s never liked surprises. 

But he sighs, gives Vanya a sympathetic look. “I’m sure it’s just like Lila said,” he starts, words soft, “We’re always in Mom’s space, I bet she just wanted some time off to herself.” 

And Vanya looks at him, doubt in her eyes. 

But she doesn’t try and speak up again, so Ben counts it as a win. 

The motel’s door jingle loudly, and when he turns to look, he catches sight of Lila, sprinting towards them once again, a large cardboard box pressed close to her chest. 

“Arsehole wouldn’t give it to me,” she whines when she reaches them, petulant, disbelieving, and then she’s scoffing and rolling her eyes, promptly shoving the box into Vanya’s general direction and dropping it without a second thought. 

Vanya catches it, just barely. 

She sways with the weight of it, scrambling not to drop it. 

Lila scoffs again, not even looking at Vanya, still caught up with whatever just happened at the motel's front desk. Then she starts walking without sparing them another look, off to her five-stars hotel, probably busy convincing herself no one would’ve been rude to her there. 

Ben turns to Vanya. 

She’s- 

She’s barely holding on to the box, and she’s pouting in that childlike and innocent way of hers that he never knows how she manages to accomplish, being that powerful and ruthless and one of the Commission's best assassins and all that. 

The box is bigger than her torso. 

“ _Ben,_ ” she breathes, indignant. 

Ben sighs, pushes down a smile. “Just hand it over.” 

Vanya shoots him a little grin, sheepish, but she lets him take the box from her hands without complaint. 

And- 

Now Ben’s holding a giant _heavy_ box with one hand, pressed close to his body, and the briefcase, that’s never been the easiest to carry, with the other. 

But whatever. 

Whatever, he thinks. 

His sisters are a menace. 

* 

The hotel is, indeed, still there. 

It’s managed to lose one star since the nineties, but- 

Lila deems it worthy enough. 

She walks in and books a room, then sweet-talks the manager into giving them a better one, and next thing he knows, they’re walking in into a giant family suite that’s honestly bigger than most apartments he’s been to. 

It’s got two bedrooms. One with a king. One with two queens. 

“I call dibs on the big room!” Lila shrieks, the second they step foot inside, and even though neither Ben nor Vanya make a peep, she still all but throws herself at it and shuts the door behind her, claiming it for herself. 

And it’s fine. 

It’s fine. 

Ben doesn’t mind sharing and he’s pretty sure Vanya doesn’t either. 

The suite is _gigantic_. 

It’s got it all. 

Kitchenette. Living room. Balcony. Desk. He would bet good money it’s got a tub. 

It’s definitely bigger and better than their living quarters back at the Commission’s headquarters, _although,_ in all fairness- that’s probably because those rooms were never meant for permanent residency. Mom’s property in the 30’s is far better, anyway. 

Ben shuffles in, waits for Vanya to lock the door behind them before walking further inside and placing their package on a small coffee table tucked away next to the room’s many couches. Then it’s the briefcase, and he drops it down ungracefully before dropping down in a chair. 

Lila’s away in the bedroom, doing god-knows-what, and Vanya’s already pocking at the kitchenette and its many complementary products (or maybe _not_ complementary, but Lila’s paying, so-). 

Ben drags the package closer to himself, stares at it. 

He thinks back to Vanya’s concerns and decides it is absolutely, _definitely_ weird that the three of them got assigned to the same job. Something’s just not- _right_ , about the whole situation. 

But what can they do? 

What can they do but get the job over with as soon as possible? 

Ben reaches for the pocketknife he always keeps on his boot, snaps the cord tying the package together apart. Then he puts the knife away and opens it. 

The very first thing that greets him is a simply _hideous_ bunny mask, all large ears and bugging eyes. Bright pink, too, because why the hell not? 

Ben scrunches up his nose, picks it up and puts it aside. 

Then it’s a bear, and then it’s something that’s definitely not an animal and should have never even been imagined in the first place, all ugly and cartoonish, indescribable. 

He sets them all aside and pretends they’re not there. 

That’s the one rule he always breaks. 

The Commission wants them to use masks, to protect their identities and in turn, _theirs_ , but- 

Ben straight up refuses to put one of those abominations over his head. He’s never worn one of the issued masks, not even once, and he seriously doubts either Vanya or Lila have, for that matter. He just can’t see it. 

Then, after the masks, the box is just full of guns. Guns, guns, guns, and more guns, a couple hand grenades thrown in for good measure. 

Those, Ben thinks, those are useful. 

Vanya never uses guns, says they’re too loud and make her a little nervous, make it harder for her to keep her powers in check. 

Lila- 

She uses anything and everything she can get her hands into. 

Ben, though? 

Ben likes guns. 

Long distance are his favorite, even if he rarely works jobs that allow him to use them. 

Guns mean he can stand away, turn his head, pull the trigger and pretend those faraway noises _(-choking, gurgling, screaming-)_ are something else, something entirely unrelated to him, something he didn’t _cause._

And he could always reach deep within himself and call the eldritch forward, but- 

Ben likes guns. 

He takes them out of the box, one by one, places them carefully on the table. 

Then comes the fun part. 

Recon. 

Mom really outdid herself this one time. 

There’s only a picture, laying flatly at the bottom of the box, now too big, too empty. 

They’re usually given much more to go by. 

Something about this job feels off. 

Ben looks up, watches as Vanya finishes pouring in hot water over a tea bag, watches as Lila suddenly comes out of the bedroom and takes her mug before it even makes it to her lips, takes a sip with over-exaggerated movements. 

He looks down at the picture, listening to their bickering. 

_“There’s more tea here, why do you have to take mine?”_

_“You think I know how to work a kettle?”_

_“Lila, for god’s sake-”_

Ben picks up the thing, brings it closer to his face. 

It’s a man. 

Could be any man. 

Older, close to his sixties, probably, greying hair covering most of his head. He could be any man. Something in his eyes feels a little different, though, a little haunted. 

A rogue Commission agent, Mom said. 

Ben wonders what it’s like, taking a look at all the blood the Commission sheds and deciding enough is enough, wanting out and getting out. 

Must be nice, he figures, real nice. 

There’s some movement by his side, and suddenly Lila’s there, sitting next to him on the couch, one leg curled up, the other stretched out. She’s got Vanya’s tea. 

“That the guy?” 

Ben nods. Lila grabs the picture from his hands, turns it over, “Huh.” 

There’s something scribbled there. Ben hadn’t noticed. 

“What?” Vanya calls, and then she’s sitting on a nearby chair, leaning towards them. She’s got another mug in her hands, large and steaming. 

“Nothing,” Lila starts, frowning, “It’s just-” and she flips the picture over, lifts it up so they can see, “ _Number Five_. Weird name, right?” 

_Number Five._

_Number Five. St Petersburg, 1934._

Vanya frowns, too. “Yeah,” she says, very, _very_ slowly. “Weird.” 

And Ben- 

He holds his breath. 

He doesn’t know why, but he holds his breath. 

He holds his breath and counts up to seven, holds it for seven, breathes out for seven. “It’s- it’s gotta be a code name,” he says, weak and shaky for no good reason at all. 

But Lila shakes her head. “Mum said he didn’t have any code names, remember?” 

And- 

Yeah, yeah, Ben remembers. Mom was pretty clear about that. 

It still feels off. 

Something about this job feels off. 

Ben looks up and there’s Vanya, and she’s- 

She’s twisting her fingers around her mug, she’s frowning. 

Lila doesn’t seem to notice. 

She pulls out the tracker device Mom gave them, instead, from out of her back pocket. “Let’s see where the prick is, yeah? I say we kill him quickly and get this over with.” 


	2. Chapter 2

The whole tracker thing turns out to be a bust. 

They’re led into a fresh crime scene in a donut shop, swarming with cops and curious bystanders. One look and it’s incredibly obvious Number Five is not there. 

Disappointing. But expected. 

The guy would be pretty shit a that whole rogue thing if he hadn’t shed his tracker. 

It’s not all lost, though. The detectives and the police officers are loud and sloppy with their investigation, speaking out loud and not caring who’s there to listen. 

Not ten minutes later they’ve got a lead. 

* 

They end up harassing some poor mechanic just on the basis that he’s got grey hair and thin lips, but after a good half hour or so of Lila roughening him up and Ben threatening to pull out the jumper cables, Vanya makes some offhand comment about how there’s a _dimple_ and there shouldn’t be a _dimple,_ and Ben almost tells her she’s seeing things, but- 

There really shouldn’t be a dimple. 

They kind of stop dead on their tracks after that. 

Then they’re scrambling to play spot the differences, comparing Number Five’s picture with the man in front of them, reaching the outstanding conclusion that just _maybe_ the guy they found in the middle of towing a truck might be, indeed, Ishmael from Ishmael’s Tow Truck. 

It’s not their proudest moment. 

“ _I told you I’m not the guy you’re looking for!”_ Ishmael shrieks, bucking against his restraints. 

Ben pinches the bridge of his nose, snaps his eyes shut. “This is just embarrassing.” 

He glares at his sisters, then at Ishmael, too, for good measure. 

Vanya splutters, huff, looks away, “This never would’ve happened to me if I was working on my own,” and Ben wants to cheerfully remind her it took her _half an hour_ to notice they had the wrong guy so it would’ve _absolutely_ happened to her too, but- 

Well. 

He didn’t notice either. 

Lila groans heavily. “This was a complete waste of time, wasn’t it?” 

_“I told you!”_ Ishamel keeps shrieking, bucking and bucking. _“I told you! I told you!”_

They all ignore him. 

“Let’s just go,” Vanya says, sighing. 

Lila sighs, too. Then she turns to Ishmael, “Got anything else you want to say?” 

He doesn’t reply. 

“Hey!” Lila barks, “I asked you a question!” 

And- 

_God,_ she doesn’t even do _anything_ to him, she just rattles the chains they strapped him down with a little too forcefully and then he’s cowering, blabbering about this and that. 

He says something about a kid. 

* 

They end up in a department store. 

Which- 

Ben’s can’t really think of a good reason why a rogue agent would want to go to a department store right after deserting and butchering the tac team sent after him, but- 

Ishmael seemed pretty sure of himself. 

“Are we-” Vanya starts, “Are we _sure_ the kid is Number Five?” 

Ben flicks his eyes towards her. 

He thinks he understands her sentiment. If they’re right, then the job just got ten times easier and Number Five is running around in a body not fit for fighting. If they’re wrong- 

“I guess we’ll know for sure when we see him, eh?” Lila says, probably aiming for reassuring but not quite making it. “If the twelve-year-old tries to kill us then it’s definitely him.” 

Vanya- 

Doesn’t reply. 

Doesn’t even give any indication that she’s listening. 

Ben gets it. 

Ben _gets_ it. 

He doesn’t want to hurt a kid, either. 

And it doesn’t exactly make much sense, for Number Five to have taken the body of a child, but- if that’s not what’s happening then Ben’s got no clue where to go on from. 

The department store is on the larger side, with low ceilings and rows upon rows of clothing racks, one of those places that sell stuff at wholesale prices, full of tacky fabrics and creepy mannequins. It’s a maze, really. Either the best or the worst terrain for a shootout, depending on whose side you’re on. 

They break in just after the last employee leaves for the night, and they settle on a random corner for their _second_ stake out of the day. 

It’s a little ridiculous, but Ben’s feeling much more confident with this one. 

The store is eerily quiet. Dark, too. There are far more clothing racks than he can count, and they cast odd shadows over the walls, tall, and looming, almost frightening. 

They don’t wait for long. 

But it’s- 

“Did you hear that?” Lila hisses, in a low whisper. 

Ben straightens up, “What?” 

“I don’t know, like- a _pop._ ” 

Vanya straightens up, too, turns her head side to side, frowning. 

“I didn’t hear anything.” Ben says, because he didn’t. 

He strains his ears, tries to listen. 

Then Vanya- _flinches_ , reacts. 

Lila opens her eyes wide, “There!” she blurts, still whispering, “There it is again!” 

“What-? I don’t hear-” Ben starts, but then it kind of dawns on him that Vanya’s powers very much include super hearing and Lila rarely goes a single second of the day without mimicking her powers when they’re together. 

Of course he can’t hear whatever they’re hearing. The store is crazy large. 

“Shhh,” Lila hisses, flapping a hand. 

He shuts up and waits. 

It really makes no sense for there to be any noise at all, though. They blocked all the exits. They made sure there was not a single soul inside beforehand. 

Vanya and Lila stand painfully still, listening, and listening. Then they- 

They both pull a face, share a confused and vaguely disturbed little glance. 

“What?” Ben asks. 

He gets shushed again. 

After a while, Lila shifts, looks at them both. “Yeah, that’s- that’s not a normal kid. It’s gotta be Number Five.” 

“What did he do?” 

Vanya bites her lip. “I think he was talking to- to a _mannequin_? There’s no one else here.” 

Ben frowns. “So he talks to himself, so what?” 

“No, Ben,” Lila starts, deadly serious, “He called it Delores and said he missed it. I’m pretty sure if we don’t bother him, he’s gonna start screwing it.” 

Ben- 

Ben blinks. 

“Oh, uh, okay?” he says, very slowly, resolutely, because he genuinely has got no idea what else to reply, to that. 

Lila nods solemnly. 

And he’s- 

He’s not even going to _think_ about the implications of Lila’s sentence. He shakes his head to side, shrugs off the mental images aggressively attempting to creep in into his brain- 

“Shall we?” he mutters, gesturing vaguely towards the center of the store, where the noise must have surely been coming from. 

Number Five is still the target, creepy mannequin habits or not. 

“Oh, yes, please,” Lila says, and she pulls out a gun- a rifle, really, one of those heavy-duty monstrosities that weigh far more than they should and have the worst balance Ben’s ever had the pleasure of feeling. “C’mon, let’s go.” 

She runs off into the rows of clothing racks. 

Ben and Vanya look at each other, briefly, and then they’re after her. 

The place is a little difficult to navigate, truly feeling something like a maze. There are stacks and stacks of clothing _everywhere_. It’s even a little hard to keep track of Lila, running ahead of them in between shirts and pants and dresses and skirts. 

One second he sees her, and then she speeds up, turns sharply into a hallway lined by yet more racks, and then- 

She _fires._

Not once, not twice, not thrice, because those assault rifles are not meant for precision. She fires like crazy, bullet, after bullet, after bullet. Ben can’t see much from where he and Vanya are standing, just the top of Lila’s head, the sharp brightness of each fired bullet, some butchered mannequin pieces flying around and hitting the ground with dull thuds. 

Then a strangled shout. _“No!”_

Lila keeps firing, and- 

Suddenly, a blue light. A _pop_. 

“The fuck?” Lila shrieks, and stops firing. 

Ben and Vanya finally jog up to meet her. “What the hell happened?” he barks, scanning the scene. Destroyed mannequins everywhere but not a single drop of blood. 

“The little shit fucking- _disappeared!”_

_“What?”_

“He just-” Lila makes a gesture with her hands, balling them into fists and then opening them up in quick succession. “ _Pop_. Disappeared.” 

“He’s enhanced?” Vanya hisses, disbelieving. 

Lila shrugs helplessly. “I guess?” 

“Mom didn’t say he was enhanced,” Vanya says, her voice creeping into a whine, a little strained, a little desperate. “Why didn’t she tell us?” 

Which- is a goddamned _good_ question, Ben thinks. 

There’s no way Mom didn’t know Number Five could do- _whatever the hell he just did,_ and even if they weren’t her children, it’s still protocol to inform agents of any possible complications they might encounter. Including _enhanced_ individuals. 

Something about this job feels really, _really_ off. 

But this might not be the best time to start asking questions. 

“Okay, so he can- _teleport_ or something,” Ben says, acknowledging both his sisters, “He’s probably still somewhere around here, so let’s just- let's split up, look for him,” he shoots Lila a sharp look, “You go left,” then at Vanya, “You go right.” 

He thinks they would usually protest the being bossed around, Lila especially. But they’re in a job. They haven’t worked a job together since they were pretty much children, but he’s confident they remember how easy it is to fail if you don’t pay enough attention to your partner and work with them instead of against them. 

He receives twin nods. 

Lila goes left. 

Vanya goes right. 

Ben starts moving forward in a straight line. 

He thinks he can hear an occasional squelch of shoes that don’t belong to either Vanya or Lila, but he can’t quite pinpoint where the noise is coming from, and even if his sisters can, using their power, it’s not like they can just throw themselves at Number Five. 

He would disappear, _again._

Ben _hates_ working enhanced individuals. 

He and his sisters are meant to have the upper hand. 

It’s _nice_ having the upper hand. 

Why the _hell_ would they even go against someone who could, _potentially_ , beat them? A power is just _not_ an advantage if the other party has it, too. 

Ben feels the creature stirring restlessly under his stomach, sensing his discomfort. 

He wills it to calm down. 

It’s only rarely that he’s had to use it on jobs. The path of destruction it leaves behind is not exactly discrete and while Mom has always been absolutely delighted by it, Ben thinks it’s best not to gamble with the timeline. Plus- 

He’s just- 

He’s got a bit of a complicated relationship with it. 

It likes blood. 

Ben doesn’t. 

Although if they don’t manage to catch Number Five quickly, it might be worth a shot, setting the tentacles loose, seeing _how_ he manages to teleport away from _that._

Ben hears that distinct _pop_ somewhere to his left. A little far away. 

Then another string of endless shooting, _bang, bang, bang, bang, bang-_

Another pop. 

Lila shouting, _“Damnit!”_

He rolls his eyes, pulls out his glock from its holster and raises it high. If Number Five’s going to be jumping from place to place then he’s got to be prepared. 

He takes another couple careful steps, and, sure enough- 

A pop. 

Behind him. 

He turns around swiftly, doesn’t let his grip on the gun waver. 

The first thing he notices is the sight of a goddamned pair of gardening shears raised high, blunt, and short, coated in white paint- a fatal weapon in the hands of a Commission agent. 

The next thing he notices is- 

Is that there is a child in front of him. 

And he _knows_ , he _knows_ it’s not a child. It’s Number Five, a fifty something year old man with a pretty impressive number of kills to his name, just like him and his family and anyone he’s ever called a friend, but, _still_ \- 

_Still._

Ben’s not stupid. He’s never had a particularly slow reaction time, either. 

_Still_ , he hesitates. 

It’s only a split second, really, but it’s enough for Number Five to make a move. 

In that fraction of a moment Ben wastes staring, recoiling at the thought of pulling the trigger and making a _child_ bleed, Number Five launches himself forward, shears raised high over his head and ready to attack. 

And _attack_ he does. 

Ben ducks, but just barely, and then kicks out almost instinctively, aiming for Five’s shins in the hopes of making him lose his footing, but- but Five jumps out of the way, quick, and lithe, _experienced_ , and it’s _Ben_ that ends up tumbling, nearly face-first on the floor. 

He manages to catch himself before truly falling, but then he looks up, and- 

And then he’s ducking again, the shears slicing through nothing but air, but Ben was already on the ground so he’s forced to drop down completely and roll over, and he can just _feel_ the size of the bruise that’s gonna form in his shoulder. 

Number Five looks down at him. 

Ben’s suddenly hyperaware of the way he ended up gripping the glock all wrong, his finger nowhere near the trigger. It would take him a second, or two, to hold it correctly and fire. 

He doesn’t have a second or two. 

Ben decides to embrace his predicament, instead, and when Five steps towards him, Ben sprints upwards, uses the momentum and the brief distraction to his advantage until he’s standing at full height, and he brings the butt of the gun up high, ready to strike, and- 

_(-and it’s not a kid, it’s not a kid, even if he looks like one, full with the school uniform and terrified expression, it’s not a kid-)_

And he brings it down at full force, but- 

A pop. 

A blinding blue light. 

Suddenly, the space in front of him is empty. 

“What the-” he starts, stumbling over his own words, because it’s one thing to understand theoretically that the guy can apparently teleport, but _seeing_ it, though- 

“Ben?” someone calls to his side, and it’s Vanya. 

“Keep your eyes open,” he hisses her way, his heartbeat going a mile a minute, “He’s good.” 

Vanya doesn’t even bother replying. 

Can they even shoot him, if he’s going to teleport out of the way? Ben has a feeling this job is not going to be easy at all. 

He stands painfully still, straining his ears, waiting for the next pop, the next flash of blue light. 

And- 

_Pop._

Somewhere near _Vanya_ , this time. 

Ben decides right then and there there’s probably safety in numbers with a target like this one, even if Vanya can just send the squirmy little bastard flying with a flick of the wrist. 

He runs towards her, towards them, unsure of where they are. He knows more or less where the noise and the light came from, but he can’t see anything with the rows and rows of clothing racks surrounding them, much less with Vanya being as _short_ as she is, and with Number Five being- _a kid_ , equally short. 

Ben runs blindly, tries to spot them, and- 

Through rows and rows of clothing, he sees Vanya, standing there, alert, looking left and right. Five must be somewhere around, stalking her, waiting for the right moment to attack. 

Ben goes to step towards her, but then- 

Right behind her, a flash of blue light. 

She turns around, a palm raised high, and Ben thinks she’s going to do- _something_ , anything at all, to blast him away with her powers or something, but she- 

_She freezes._

Utterly, completely. 

It’s not a split second of hesitation like it was with Ben, it’s not because he truly looks like a little kid and this is the first time she’s seeing him, no, it’s- 

Ben knows his sister, he knows her, sometimes he even thinks he might know her better than she knows herself, and he _knows_ this is something different. 

Vanya freezes. 

She looks at Number Five, and she freezes. 

Five freezes, too, in turn, sensing something’s not right with the way Vanya is holding herself, or perhaps seeing a barely five-foot-something woman with no discernable weapons on her and mistakenly assuming she’s not a threat after all. 

Either way, they both stand there, in the dark, staring at each other. 

Ben can’t quite see Vanya’s face from where he’s standing, but he can see enough. The tense lines of her shoulders, the way her raised palm shakes ever so slightly. 

Number Five takes a single step backwards. 

Then another, and another. 

Vanya _lets him._

_“Vanya!”_ Ben hisses, loud and accusing, starting to move towards her, because even she’s going through- _something_ , she can’t just randomly decide to freeze up when they’re in _the middle of a job._

That could get her killed. 

That could _literally_ get her killed. 

Vanya turns to look at him, and it’s like she snaps from whatever trance she was in. Suddenly she’s not holding herself unnaturally still, she’s not staring blankly ahead. 

She sends a wave of her power towards Number Five- a little lazy, and uncontrolled, nothing like the laser-like precision she usually manages, but- but at least she moves, she does _something_ , she attacks the target like she’s supposed to. 

Number Five blinks away. 

“What the hell?” Ben blurts, walking towards her. “Vanya, you can’t just-” 

“Shut up,” Vanya says, flatly, and it would almost be normal, but she won’t meet his eye. 

Ben turns to look at her, disbelieving, _worried,_ and he opens his mouth, ready to give her a piece of his mind, but- 

Another pop. Too close. 

Directly to their right this time. 

Ben doesn’t even register what’s happening, he just sees a blur of movement, an undistinguishable sea of the kid’s navy-blue uniform, and then- 

The shears, raised high. 

And, yeah, yeah, yeah, if Number Five thought Vanya wasn’t dangerous before, then he’s definitely changed his mind now. He’s aiming for her. Ben isn’t even sure how it happens, but he ends up grabbing ahold of Vanya’s jacket, pulling her backwards and into his chest just in time to stop her from getting her fucking _neck_ sliced, and- 

And the shears still hit her, _her arm_ , her arm but not her _neck_ so it’s alright by Ben. 

She cries out, distracted, likely disoriented, and Number Five raises the shears _again,_ and- 

Ben raises his glock and fires. 

Five blinks out. 

_“Lila!”_ Ben shrieks into the store, looking wildly around. _“Lila!”_

He doesn’t drop the gun. He- 

He doesn’t even _know_ if he hit Number Five or not. 

Then he sees rather than hears another pop, a flash of blue somewhere on the other side of the store, near the main entrance. “ _Shit,_ _shit,_ ” he hisses lowly, but Vanya’s sagging against him, and she’s _bleeding_ , and- 

Lila finally shows up, her ridiculously gigantic rifle up and ready. 

_“What the hell?”_

Ben throws Vanya a significant look, then gestures vaguely towards Number Five. 

Lila- 

She rolls her eyes sharply, exasperatedly, but then runs off towards Number Five without another word. Ben can stop worrying about that for a second. 

He looks down at Vanya. 

She’s hissing through her teeth, pressing down at the wound in her arm. 

“Let me see that,” Ben starts, awkwardly reaching for her once she realizes she was more or less leaning against him and goes to step away. 

“No,” Vanya says, “It’s- it's fine.” 

But it’s not. 

It’s bleeding. 

_Significantly_ , he’d say. An ugly gash in the middle of her upper arm, done by a blunt weapon that had been collecting dust in some forgotten corner of the store for god knows how long. 

It’s not okay. 

“ _Vanya,_ ” Ben says, almost accusing. 

But Vanya shoots him a look full of vitriol, _“I said it’s fine.”_

And, yeah, she’s- 

She’s acting weird. 

“Okay,” Ben says, and takes a breath. “What’s going on? Are you okay?” 

She looks up at him, doesn’t really reply. 


	3. Chapter 3

Lila takes her sweet time. 

Not enough that Ben worries, but enough that he’s got time to stand awkwardly next to Vanya, painfully silent, staring, wondering what’s going through her mind. 

“Vanya,” he starts, uncomfortably, after a too long moment, “You can’t freeze up like that,” he says, because it’s true, “You could’ve gotten yourself killed.” 

Vanya huffs out, looks away. 

And he knows she knows, already, he  _ knows _ , but- 

“I’m serious,” Ben says, a little desperate for her to understand how true his words are, “You can’t do that with _any_ target, but especially not with _this one_.” It’s one thing to go against a random nobody who’s on the path to unknowingly change the timeline in ways they shouldn’t. It’s another thing to go against an _enhanced_ _Commission agent_. “You do understand that, right?” 

She still doesn’t reply. 

_ “Vanya.” _

_ “What?”  _

Ben bites his lip. “Is it because he’s a kid? Is that what’s bothering you?” 

Because if that’s what’s bothering her then she can probably just-  _ sit this one out _ . He doesn’t love it either, but a job is a job. He’s pretty sure he and Lila could handle it well enough on their own. It should be alright as long as Mom never finds out. 

But Vanya- 

She finally looks at him, breathes out something almost exasperated. “I’m not stupid, Ben, I know he’s not really a kid.” 

“So?” 

“I- I just, I don’t-” 

Lila shows up from out of nowhere, appearing from in between the clothing racks. 

Ben sighs, accepts without complaint that whatever Vanya was going to tell him will have to wait for another time or might not even come at all now. 

Vanya tends to withdraw, when she’s upset. 

She rarely tells any of them stuff directly. 

Lila- 

Lila makes an awkward, aborted movement when she reaches them, no doubt sensing they were in the middle of something and she just stepped in their moment. But still, she gestures jerkily to Vanya’s arm after a moment. “You okay?” 

“Yeah,” Vanya babbles, no hesitation, but she lifts her hand off from the wound and it comes out shiny red, nearly dripping with blood. 

But she’s  _ fine _ , she says. 

She’s  _ fine _ . 

Ben’s gotta trust that she knows when to ask for help. 

He turns to Lila instead. “Where’s the kid?” 

She scrunches up her nose. “Lost him. I think he jumped out of the store.” 

“Shit,” Ben says. 

“Shit,” Lila echoes. 

Vanya keeps staring off at nothing in particular, eyes distant. 

Lila shifts awkwardly, “Also, uh, dunno if you idiots noticed but someone called the cops on us, so- we better run now, yeah? I’m not getting arrested.” 

Sure enough, there’s a faint noise somewhere in the distance, sirens blaring at full force. 

Ben nods, goes to walk away. 

But Vanya- 

She looks at them both, “I- I need a minute,” she says, as if that was a perfectly normal thing to say, “Why don’t you two go ahead? I’ll meet you at the hotel.” 

Lila snorts, ungraceful. “You gonna go say hi to the piggies?” 

“No,” Vanya says, rolling her eyes, annoyed, “I’m  _ obviously _ not staying here, I just- I need- I need to be alone for a minute, okay? Just-” 

“Are you okay?” Ben asks, again. 

Vanya looks up at him, and for a moment, he thinks she’s actually going to give him an honest answer this one time but- but then she doesn’t. She opens her mouth, closes it. Then huffs out, shakes her head side to side. “I’ll meet you at the hotel,” she repeats, forcefully, and then she walks away, off to the exit they secured earlier. 

Ben and Lila are left standing there, watching her go. 

“Okay, what the fuck is going on with her?” 

“I don’t know,” Ben says, because he doesn’t. 

* 

The walk back to the hotel is a little tense. 

Or- 

Or maybe it’s just tense for  _ him _ , because Lila keeps blabbering about this and that, but Ben can’t stop thinking about Vanya, standing deadly still, letting the mark get away. 

He doesn’t even really care that much about Number Five slipping away, mainly because Mom doesn’t have any business being mad at them for not finishing up the assignment in time if she didn’t think it was that important to inform them he was  _ enhanced. _

What he’s actually worried about is- 

Well- 

_ Vanya.  _

It really isn’t like her, to act the way she did. 

Even if Mom swears up and down she doesn’t have any favorites, it’s plenty obvious sometimes she likes Vanya the tiniest bit better than she’s ever liked him, or Lila for that matter, showering her with dumb little gifts and sickly-sweet compliments, and he’s pretty sure the only reason things are like that is because Vanya’s always so-  _ ruthless _ , on jobs. 

Vanya’s always been one of the Commission’s best assassins. 

She’s efficient, and determined, and  _ vicious _ , and Ben can’t even fathom holding any grudges against Mom’s blatant favoritism, because it’s really  _ something  _ to watch Vanya lock her eyes on a target and use her powers, in absolute control of her mind, and herself, and her ability, focused on nothing but on pouring all that she’s got into the kill. 

Ben could never accomplish something like that with the eldritch. 

And Lila- 

She’s got to focus on mimicking the power  _ on top _ of using it. She’s good. She’s  _ damned _ good, but Vanya always has and always will be the tiniest bit better. 

It really isn’t like her, to act the way she did. 

By the time they make it back to the hotel room Ben’s feeling jittery, uncomfortable, feeling like one wrong move and the creature is going to spill out whether he wants it to or not. 

He locks himself in the bathroom. 

He lets Lila hanging in the middle of a dramatic telling about that one time she had to kill some medieval maiden and accidently managed to kill a princess instead, single handedly starting a war that wasn’t supposed to happen for another ten years. 

He just- 

He locks himself in the bathroom, hops in the shower, and wills the creature to sit still. 

He thinks he’s not as afraid of it as he could have been, in another life, because he grew up the way he did and Mom never encouraged him to fear it or loathe it or even really control it, he was always told to do whatever he pleased with it, to let it out whenever the hell it wanted out and let it do whatever the hell it wanted to do, always told not to worry about consequences. 

But Ben always worried about consequences. 

Mom wanted him to kill, with it, and Ben did, for a while, but then- 

It was just- 

It was bloody, and gory, and it wasn’t like killing with guns because with guns he could just look away but with the creature he could feel it, he could feel bones crushing and blood spilling, he could feel life, extinguishing, he could feel a thrill, sickening and foreign, otherworldly, not his but the creature’s, its thoughts and wants and needs intertwining with Ben’s own, making him feel things no person should ever feel when looking at a dead body. 

He doesn’t fear it. 

He just doesn’t like it much. 

It doesn’t like  _ him _ , either, he’s pretty sure of it. 

He stays in the shower for far too much time, and then he sits on top of the toilet’s lid for far too much time all over again, and by the time he comes out of the bathroom he’s feeling a little woozy, like no time has passed at all, like it’s been days and then some. 

But he’s a little calmer, a little steadier on his knees. 

Lila’s door is shut. 

Vanya’s- 

Not back yet, by the looks of it. 

And it’s weird, because he thought he was gonna be sharing a room with her but instead he ends up laying on his back in an empty room, next to an empty bed. 

He’s worried. The creature is restless. 

Still, he sleeps, more or less. 

He wakes up from time to time, every couple hours, minutes, Vanya’s wide eyes flashing before his, even Number Five’s, so burdened, so worn, not a child’s but still looking the part. 

He doesn’t like the direction this job is taking. 

He sleeps. 

He wakes up from time to time. 

One of those times, though- 

There’s a figure, a silhouette, right next to his bed, tiptoeing carefully, and Ben’s half asleep but he wonders if it’s Vanya, finally back from whatever the hell she was so busy doing, but- 

But this person’s way taller, and- 

And it’s not an intruder because he would’ve  _ definitely _ noticed if someone had broken in, so- 

“Lila?” Ben mumbles into the darkness, a little hoarse, a little puzzled. 

It’s Lila. 

It’s Lila, her mop of hair unmistakable even in the shadows. Her bangs always stick up in all directions if she’s been laying down. 

She doesn’t really reply. 

Instead, she lifts up the covers and gets in bed, right next to him. 

Ben sighs. “What are you doing?” 

Again, no reply. 

But Ben can feel her, rather than see, shrug minutely. 

They sort of lay like that for a while, silent, next to each other. 

Then Lila rolls into her stomach, a little closer to him. There’s enough space for the two of them. “Remember when we were little kids and we’d all sleep together in the same bed because you’d cry like a baby if we left you alone?” 

Ben huffs out, rolls his eyes. “We were like-  _ five _ . I had nightmares.” 

“We had nightmares too,” Lila says, easy, “Didn’t make us crybabies, though.” 

And- 

Jesus, ain’t that true? 

Lila and Vanya were always one step ahead from him, even since they were nothing but children, helpless. He was never comfortable with his powers and he was never comfortable with killing, and he was never comfortable with not having someone constantly by his side, letting him know if he’s doing alright. 

He’s gotten better, over the years, but- 

Still.  _ Still _ . 

He doesn’t really say anything. 

But then Lila does, “I-” she starts, her voice uncharacteristically small, full of hesitation, “Is it weird that I kind of miss it?” 

Ben lets a couple seconds go by. 

Then he rolls into his stomach too, a little closer to her. 

He can almost see her face, through the darkness. 

She looks troubled, and tense, like she’s baring her soul, “It’s just,” she keeps going, “we used to be together all the time, remember? We trained together, and we went on our first missions together, and we were like- good, right? We were good.” 

Ben nods obediently, “Yes, Lila. We were good.” 

And Lila nods back, a little too enthusiastic, “We were good! And-” and she shuts up, goes quiet, goes hesitant and unsure, and Ben’s not quite sure what she’s trying to say but he thinks he agrees wholeheartedly all the same. 

“And what?” he mumbles, softly. 

Lila shrugs again. “I just miss us. We barely see each other now. I was- I was excited for this job because we were gonna do it together but now Vanya’s acting weird and I have no idea where she fucked off to. I miss us, Ben. I feel like we’re not a family anymore.” 

Ben breathes out very slowly, “Oh,” he says. 

He- 

He also feels like they’re not a family anymore, sometimes. 

Sometimes, when they haven’t seen each other in months and the little time they have together is spent trying to be the best child, to win Mom over, even if they know Mom’s got her opinions on them and they’re not ever going to change. 

They don’t really talk like they used to, when they were young and naïve and plagued by nightmares of a life before the Handler and the Commission. 

They used to sleep together, in the same bed, the three of them cuddled close, a mess of limbs and disheveled hair, children seeking one another, and whenever Mom caught them she’d always chastise them and send them off to their own beds but- 

But they’d just do it again, the very next day. 

One day they just stopped. 

Ben pokes at a loose thread next to his head, in the pillow, toys with it. “I miss us, too.” 

* 

They fall asleep like that. 

It’s nice. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i literally finished writing this one yesterday at 3:42 am because i've lost control of my life <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here, have a super short chapter:

Next morning, Ben wakes up alone. 

The curtains are open, and the world’s most annoying ray of sunlight is hitting his eyes, and he tries to move and his goddamned shoulder  _ shrieks, _ and he curses Number Five and his gardening shears under his breath, wondering how he can be both so  _ tiny _ and so  _ feral _ . 

It just makes no sense, really. 

He gets up, somehow feeling tired even though he just woke up, and pads out of the room like a zombie, his mind focused on nothing but finding coffee,  _ all _ of the coffee, but- 

But he’s greeted by  _ Vanya _ , laying haphazardly on the couch, her hair cascading to the side, her feet up in an armrest, and Lila sitting down on the floor right in front of her, cross-legged, thread and needle in hand, sewing the cut in Vanya’s arm shut. 

“Vanya,” Ben says, smartly. 

And it’s  _ relief _ , it’s  _ relief _ what he’s feeling. 

Vanya flicks her eyes towards him, “Hi,” she says, maybe a little nervously. 

Ben breathes out, realizes he was far more worried than he thought he was. “Where the hell were you?” 

Lila tsks, glances briefly at him. “She’s the best sister ever. She won’t tell me.” 

Vanya huffs out, “I said  _ I didn’t go anywhere. _ ” 

“That’s the same as not telling me!” 

_ “Lila-”  _

Ben does the smart thing and ignores their bickering, walks closer and sits in the armchair by the couch, “You were gone all night,” he says, plain and simple, “You went somewhere.” 

And Vanya’s expression turns a little squirrelly, sheepish. 

Lila tilts her head, pulls tightly at the thread going through Vanya’s skin and ties a knot, maybe with harsher movements that she’s ought to, quick and efficient. 

Vanya hisses. 

Lila smiles big, all teeth. 

“Vanya,” Ben says. 

She sighs, resigned. 

And she’s- 

She’s truly acting weird, all of her confidence gone, all of her self-assuredness gone. 

Ben watches her. 

Lila watches her. 

She sits up slowly, acting like they’ve got her backed into a corner for some reason, like she’s going to run, like she’s going to attack. 

But then she reaches to the side and to the couch's armrest, where her bloodstained jacket lays, probably mindlessly thrown when she first arrived. “It’s just,” she starts, digging into its inside pockets, “Number Five seemed-  _ familiar _ . I don’t know why, but-” 

She pulls something from out of her jacket, thin and long, several pieces of paper, colorful- a comic book, maybe? 

“Familiar how?” Ben asks, slowly, almost a whisper for no good reason at all. 

And there’s that feeling again. 

The one that screams at him something’s _not_ _right_ about this job. 

Vanya looks up at him. Ben can see it, in her eyes, that she’s got that feeling too, that she hates it just as much as he does, that she can’t explain it any more than he can, “I don’t know,” she says, like it pains her to say it. 

Ben understands. 

Lila flicks her eyes between the two of them, nervously, like she, too, can sense something’s different about this one job, like she knows just as much as they do  _ something _ is going to happen any second now and they won’t like it one bit. 

But- 

But it’s different. 

It’s different, because Ben can’t quite see that recognition in Lila’s eyes, that he sees on Vanya’s. Lila’s just nervous because they are, because she trusts their instincts just as much as her own. 

She doesn’t get that strange unease when she thinks about Number Five. 

Lila clears her throat awkwardly, leans a bit into Vanya’s space, “What’s with the comic book?” and she gestures to the magazine Vanya brought with her. 

“Oh,” Vanya blurts, looking down at it, “Yeah, it’s, uh-” she takes a deep breath, “The uniform,” she says, “I think that’s what I recognized? I don’t- I don’t know, it’s weird. I saw that uniform and it felt like- like I knew it, like I knew where it was from, except I  _ didn’t _ know, I just had a feeling, so I went to the library-” 

Lila makes a face, “In the middle of the night? Did you  _ seriously _ break into-” 

“-but I  _ still _ didn’t know, so I spent the whole night going through the city’s records looking at private and boarding schools but- but none of the uniforms really matched, and then-” she huffs, weakly, almost laughter, “just when I was about to give up I walked past the children’s section and found this.” 

And she leans forward, drops the comic book on top of the coffee table. 

Ben can’t get a good look at it from where he's sitting, and it doesn’t matter, anyway, because Lila snatches it almost immediately, absentmindedly flips it open and flicks through the pages. It looks- like a comic book, colorful, all cartoon characters and speech bubbles, nothing special about it. 

Ben looks at Vanya, bites his lip, “The uniform?” 

She shrugs. 

He can tell she’s not lying, but he can also tell she’s not telling the whole truth. 

The uniform was blue. 

It had a blazer, and a tie, and knee-high socks. 

It also had some kind of crest over the left breast, red and white and yellow, something scribbled underneath. Ben can’t actually recall any specifics- he was a little busy trying not to get murdered. 

And the thing is- 

He doesn’t- 

He  _ doesn’t _ recognize that uniform. 

At all. 

Not even a little bit. 

He thinks he might have felt a little flicker of something when he heard the name  _ Number Five _ for the very first time, as if calling a person by a number was something he  _ should _ know,  _ should _ recognize,  _ should _ \- remember, for some reason. 

He felt something then. 

But the uniform-? 

Nothing. 

Nothing at all. 

Vanya feels it, though, at full force. 

She looks deeply disturbed, confused, fighting her own mind. 

“Okay, I have a question,” Lila says, suddenly, frowning. She puts the comic book down on the table and Ben manages it to give it a proper look- five children in navy blue, wearing masks over their eyes. “What the hell is the Umbrella Academy?” 

**Author's Note:**

> the unholy trinity instead of hazel and cha-cha, anyone?? 👀 👀
> 
> follow me on tumblr @myeyesarenotblue


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